


Three Words are Too Many

by Vanilleroks



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Love Confessions, M/M, Romance, Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens), inner turmoil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-07-27 14:17:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20047426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanilleroks/pseuds/Vanilleroks
Summary: With the whole Armageddon thing over and no Great Wars in sight, Aziraphale and Crowley are free to pursue a romantic relationship. Although it seems like the hard part is over, the hardest thing for Aziraphale seems to be working up the courage to actually say those three words. Who would have thought it would be so hard to confess?!Updates weekly.





	1. Just a Drink

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! Thank you for clicking on this fic. Make sure to leave kudos and comments along the way so I know people are interested in the fic. Enjoy!

Had it been any other day, Crowley would already be with Aziraphale, eating lunch at one of the nice little restaurants near the bookshop. Today, however, wasn’t like any other normal day. Why? Aziraphale had no idea, but he did know that Crowley was not, in fact, with him at a restaurant eating. No. Instead, Aziraphale was sitting at his desk, half-heartedly reading a book while he waited for either a customer or the demon himself to walk in.  
  
He waited for what felt like forever, disappointed when the only people that came through the door until closing time were customers (none of whom bought anything, thankfully).  
  
_Where could he possibly be?_ Aziraphale thought as he closed up the bookshop.  
  
A question that Crowley could, theoretically, answer for him now. He walked to his phone and picked up the receiver, placing it to his ear as he dialed Crowley’s number. Disappointment washed over him again when he was met with Crowley’s voice reciting his voicemail message.  
  
_Yes, well,_ Aziraphale thought, hanging up the phone, _I don’t need him to enjoy a nice meal._  
  
With that in mind, Aziraphale put on his coat and left the shop, making his way for that lovely little sushi place. He sat at the bar, putting in his order and waiting patiently. This was the place he usually went to when Crowley couldn’t eat with him. Sitting at the bar was easier when one doesn’t have anyone to talk to, after all. It made it harder to make proper eye contact whilst chatting between bites.  
  
The sushi was placed in front of him, and so Aziraphale placed his napkin in his lap and began eating. Part of him was used to dining alone (none of the other angels had ever wanted to dine with him before the whole Armageddon thing happened), but a bigger part of him felt lonely. Despite his hesitation to verbally admit it, he was used to having Crowley around. Liked having him there, even. The demon was good company.  
  
The angel sighed softly, finishing his food and ordering dessert before returning to his shop. Considering the disappointment he felt when it was empty, it was safe to assume that he was hoping Crowley would be there waiting for him.  
  
Aziraphale walked to his phone, picking up his receiver once again. This time, he hesitated, his finger hovering over the keypad before he decided to hang up. He didn’t want to seem desperate. Crowley would undoubtedly make fun of him for it. Well, more like tease him. Crowley wasn’t as evil as he liked everyone to think he was, and it was rare for Crowley to actually make fun of him.  
  
With another heavy sigh, Aziraphale took off his coat, sitting at his desk and sliding on his reading glasses. He read for a few minutes before sighing again, getting up and pouring himself a glass of wine. It was a bit sad to think that he couldn’t have fun without Crowley, but it was just because the demon hadn’t called. He usually calls, and then Aziraphale could plan days without him, but no. Not today. No calls, no Crowley, no fun.  
  
He sipped his wine slowly, savoring the taste of it. It reminded him of the time he and Crowley had gotten a bit tipsy whilst talking about what would happen if Armageddon had occurred. Why he could only think of Crowley, he did not know.  
  
Or maybe he did. No, he definitely did. Why did he have to pretend now that it was common knowledge upstairs that he and Crowley were friends? Maybe he could even say it out loud now: He’s in love with Crowley. In pretty much every sense of the word.  
  
He liked looking at Crowley. Not because he thought that Crowley was attractive (and not that he isn’t, he most definitely is), but because it was hard for him to pay attention to much else. Crowley made him feel… Light. Like he was floating. When he was with Crowley, everything just seemed so much easier. He had more fun, he enjoyed things more, and he found that even the more difficult things seemed easier with Crowley there.  
  
Aziraphale was snapped out of his thoughts by the phone ringing. He took another sip of wine before he picked up the receiver, simply saying, “I’m sorry, we’re closed.”  
  
_“Wait!”_ came a familiar voice as he went to hang up. __  
  
It was almost a miracle (though obviously not a real one. It was just a figure of speech sort of miracle) that Aziraphale had managed to pick up the receiver again before it made contact with the base.  
  
“Crowley,” he smiled to himself.  
  
_“I’m in the mood for a drink,”_ Crowley said, _“want to come over?”_  
  
It wasn’t the first time that Crowley had invited Aziraphale over to his apartment. In fact, the last time he had, Aziraphale almost did go. There was just something that seemed too intimate about going to Crowley’s apartment; it was as if there was some unspoken promise that Aziraphale would be making if he were to go there.  
  
“I don’t know, Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered, feeling like he suddenly had something caught in his throat.  
  
It still felt like things were going to fast. Their whole 6000 year friendship seemed to have been leading to this moment. Every “chance” encounter with one another had left them to learn more about one another and grow closer. If Aziraphale were to accept Crowley’s invitation, it would change everything. He just knew it would. And perhaps it wasn’t too soon, but it still felt like it was going to fast for him.  
  
_“It’s just a drink, Angel.”_  
  
Was there a real reason to say no? Neither of them had anything to hold them back anymore. It was all out in the open, and there wasn’t likely to be any interference for a long while. After all, Crowley’s theorized war between Heaven and Hell and Humans didn’t appear to be on the horizon. They were free from obligations.  
  
But was there a real reason to say yes? It was nerve-wracking to think about their relationship changing. Aziraphale had no doubt in his mind that they had two very different ideas of love. Sure, Crowley used to be an angel, but he had been a demon for even longer. He was sure demons had a very different interpretation of love than angels had.  
  
On the other hand, it had already kind of been established that Crowley and Aziraphale didn’t exactly fit the usual stereotypes for angels and demons. If anything, they were more inclined to act like regular humans.  
  
Still, Aziraphale wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. Say Crowley’s theoretical war were to take place: what would happen then? Would they fight with the humans? That was what they both seemed to want (although they had never really talked in depth about that war in particular. Aziraphale was just basing that off the whole Armageddon fiasco), but what if they had to fight on opposite sides. Wouldn’t becoming… romantically entangled… complicate that situation further should it arise?  
  
_“Angel?”_  
  
“I’ll be right over,” Aziraphale declared, hanging up the phone before Crowley could respond.


	2. Pure Intentions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the super late update. I got really sick and couldn't get myself to format this chapter. Don't worry though; you'll still get another update on Tuesday!

Aziraphale swiftly pulled his coat back on, walking towards the door. He considered putting on a fresh spray of that cologne his barber had suggested but then decided against it. Cologne was good in moderation. Putting on too much would make him smell ghastly, and he certainly didn’t want that.  
  
When he swung open the door to his bookshop, he was surprised to see Crowley leaning against his Bently, phone in hand. Crowley gave a nonchalant wave, standing up straight.  
  
“How long have you been waiting out here?” Aziraphale asked, slowly pulling the door closed behind him.  
  
“Not as long as I thought I would. You came out rather quickly,” Crowley commented, looking amused, “You ready to go then?”  
  
“I…” the angel cleared his throat, smiling a bit despite feeling embarrassed, “What if I had said no?”  
  
“You wouldn’t have,” Crowley opened his car door, “Now, get in the car.”  
  
As Crowley got into the Bently, Aziraphale turned around and locked up the bookshop. He hadn’t expected Crowley to have already been waiting outside. He felt like a fool, yet he wasn’t super upset about it. In a way, it was kind of sweet. Crowley didn’t doubt that he would accept his invitation, which meant that he probably felt the same way about the whole situation. They didn’t have to hide anymore.  
  
When Aziraphale finally got into the Bently, he began to feel extremely nervous. Not only was he about to go to Crowley’s apartment for a casual visit, but he was getting a ride from Crowley. Sure, Aziraphale had feelings for him, but that didn’t change the fact that Crowley drove like a mad man.  
  
“Ready?”  
  
“Mhm,” Aziraphale gulped, preparing for the ride to come.  
  
As expected, Crowley sped off.  
  
“Slow down, you’re going to hit somebody!”  
  
“Am not. There’s nobody even walking on the street right now.”  
  
Crowley turned a corner at full speed, which made Aziraphale start to feel rather sickly. That hadn’t changed at least: he still absolutely abhorred Crowley’s driving.  
  
“Careful!”  
  
“Calm down, Angel. We’re fine.”  
  
The rest of the drive went as expected: they bickered about Crowley’s need to speed and listened to some Queen. It wasn’t as unpleasant as Aziraphale had expected it to be, but it still wasn’t the ride he had wanted. If Crowley would only slow down, things would be perfect.  
  
They parked and began walking to the door. It was nerve-wracking for Aziraphale, but Crowley seemed as calm as ever. “Chill,” if you would. He opened the door, allowing Aziraphale to walk in before him. Then, he slid off his coat and tossed it to the side, Aziraphale picking it up and folding it neatly before setting it down on a nearby chair. Afterward, he did the same with his own coat.  
  
“Scotch, bourbon?” Crowley inquired, pouring himself a drink.  
  
“Scotch, please,” Aziraphale answered, looking around.  
  
The apartment itself was rather nice, but there was an unexplainable feeling of fear in the air. Aziraphale was sure it wasn’t coming from him, yet he couldn’t quite pinpoint where it was coming from. It seemed to be exuding from multiple points in the room.  
  
“Here,” Crowley offered a glass of scotch, lazily holding it out towards Aziraphale.  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
He took a sip, tasting hints of oakwood with a nice, smokey flavor. He usually preferred wines, but this particular scotch was fairly pleasant. Crowley didn’t seem too focused on that, though, as he downed his first drink with little hesitation.  
  
“You have very nice plants,” Aziraphale complimented, trying to start a conversation.  
  
“Hm?” Crowley glanced to the plant that Aziraphale happened to be looking at, “Oh, yes, the plants. I’m very particular about my treatment of my plants, which allows them to grow beautifully.”  
  
Crowley gave a subtle smirk, seemingly to himself, before pouring himself another drink.  
  
“How’s business going?” the demon asked.  
  
“Fine. I haven’t sold a single copy, as usual,” Aziraphale smiled (also to himself).  
  
“Brilliant,” Crowley praised, sitting down and gesturing for Aziraphale to do the same.  
  
He sat beside him.  
  
“What did you do today?” Aziraphale questioned, genuinely curious.  
  
“Nothing much really,” Crowley began, leaning back, “I took a quick trip to Tadfield. Checked on Adam. He seems to be doing well since the whole ‘end of the world’ thing.”  
  
“You checked up on him?” Aziraphale was sure he sounded skeptical, but he was just surprised. He knew that, deep down, Crowley was a good person; however, he hadn’t expected the demon to check in on the antichrist after the fact.  
  
“Just a quick pop in. He didn’t even know I was there. I’m not usually one for lurking, but,” Crowley shrugged, taking a sip of his drink.  
  
“Why didn’t you want him to know you were there?”  
  
“I wouldn’t want the kid to get the wrong impression.”  
  
Crowley had a weird pride thing when it came to people thinking he was a good person. He insisted that being a demon meant that he couldn’t be nice at all, but Aziraphale knew that that wasn’t true. Crowley was, in fact, one of the kindest people in the world. In most worlds. In Aziraphale opinion, at least.  
  
“That would be bad,” Aziraphale teased, earning a side glance from Crowley, who then tossed his sunglasses to the side.  
  
They fell into a sort of tense silence. Not tense in the sense that they were stressed or in danger, more like tense in the sense that there were so many things to say that neither of them really knew how to. Who was going to initiate the conversation? Surely it was difficult for both of them. Neither of them had ever talked about the romantic tension out loud before, and it was a given that neither of them knew how to approach it.  
  
Aziraphale took a large sip of his drink, wondering if perhaps they should drink more before bringing it up. They could always sober up after getting the conversation started. Would it feel as personal? Maybe not, but it did make the idea of confessing seem easier.  
  
Aziraphale cleared his throat, deciding that he should just rip it off like a bandaid.  
  
“Crowley,” he began.  
  
Anything else he had wanted to say was cut off by Crowley, who had put his drink down and grabbed Aziraphale’s face and crushed their lips together. It wasn’t quite the first kiss that Aziraphale had imagined, but he was grateful that Crowley had shut him up. He was probably going to embarrass himself anyways.  
  
As Aziraphale lifted one hand to Crowley’s cheek, the kiss became softer. Aziraphale tried his best to communicate his feelings through the kiss, but he was sure he was a lot more clumsy about it than he had intended to be.  
  
Crowley was the first to pull away, gazing into Aziraphale’s eyes with an intense passion. It made Aziraphale feel rather flustered if he was going to be honest. He wasn’t used to people looking at him like that, of course. Even before the kiss, Crowley looked at him with a more tender affection than anything. This look was much different, and he didn’t know if he was ready for anything past kissing.  
  
“Marriage should be honored by all, and the marriage bed kept pure, for God will judge the adulterer and all the sexually immoral” (Hebrews 13:4).  
  
That meant all those who had premarital relations. Aziraphale wasn’t sure if he was willing to face this particular judgment from God. He was sure that He wouldn’t view Aziraphale the same if he and Crowley slept together before marriage, but he wasn’t sure if getting married was something that they could really do. An angel and a demon, exchanging vows in the eyes of God? It wouldn’t work. He would surely Fall if such a thing were to occur. He had to be careful.  
  
“Angel?” Crowley spoke, breaking Aziraphale from his thoughts.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“What could you possibly be thinking about so seriously right now?”  
  
Aziraphale’s cheeks got warm, undoubtedly turning a light shade of red. Crowley was obviously teasing him, but Aziraphale was feeling some complex feelings at the moment. He felt like maybe he hadn’t fully thought the whole thing through. It definitely wasn’t a mistake, but he wasn’t sure if he and Crowley were on the same wavelength. After all, angels and demons had very different ideas about sex.  
  
“A lot of things. There’s a lot for me to consider, isn’t there?”  
  
“Consider?” Crowley raised a brow. “I haven’t read the Bible in a very long time, so correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t remember there being anything about kissing.”  
  
Aziraphale was sure he had turned redder. It certainly felt like it.  
  
“Don’t tell me you’re having… Impure thoughts,” Crowley jested.  
  
“Perish the thought,” Aziraphale responded, too flustered to remember what the modern version of that phrase was.  
  
“Relax, Angel,” Crowley chuckled, “My intentions are pure.”  
  
There was something about that that didn’t sit well with Aziraphale. In all their 6000 years, Crowley had never lied to him. There was no reason for him to doubt Crowley’s words, and yet he was sure that there was no way that his intentions were _pure_. Maybe he meant that night, which was just fine with Aziraphale.  
  
“Good, then.”  
  
Crowley said nothing. Instead, he opted for another kiss instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr! @vanilleroks

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr! @vanilleroks is the name and interaction is the game lol. I love interacting with readers and getting feedback, so shoot me a message there if there are things you want to see or things you don't think are working so far. I greatly appreciate it!


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